GiftGiving
by doctorcoffeeboy
Summary: Two-Shot only. John and Sherlock celebrate the gift-giving part of December, and John gets Sherlock something to stem the boredom. K simply to be safe.
1. To Sherlock, from John

A/N: WARNING: Giant A/N at the end of this. Sorry. Now, I know we've all missed Christmas now, and it's gone, but I had to do this, and the idea only turned up yesterday. I'm expecting Sherlock on DVD in the post, and this is to keep me going until I finally own it! Friendship Only. Pre-slash if you really insist, but there is no hint of it unless you're slightly delirious.

John looked at the box with pride. He had been planning on getting something like this for a while, at least to stop Sherlock destroying things when he got a case of extreme boredom.

It was almost Christmas, so it seemed the perfect time to give this.

They had decided not to put up a tree this year because Sherlock set fire to the last plant they had, and that had only been small. He swore it was an accident, and it just spontaneously combusted, but John thought it would be safer. They were still accepting presents though.

"Sherlock…" John held the box behind his back as he walked into the living room to see the familiar form of his colleague and flatmate stretched out on his couch, completely still, eyes gazing up at the ceiling intensely, as if trying to seek answers for whatever he was thinking of from the plaster.

"Sherlock, a quick word?"

"Hmm?" Sherlock didn't look over, but his head tilted slightly to show he was listening.

"I've got you a gift."

There was a momentary pause and suddenly Sherlock shifted to sitting up, and grinned. "Really?" He asked, looking more like a child than an adult.

"Yes." John laughed. "Didn't you ever get presents in your family?"

"Well, yes, but they were always useless. My parents were trying to build me into a model-child, it obviously didn't work."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." John commented dryly, smiling.

"And Mycroft was trying to get me to work with him in MI5 or the CIA, so all of his gifts tended to work with that. I never got anything interesting." He continued, only smiling slightly to show he heard. He shrugged to show how the present-thing hadn't worried him.

So that explained a lot. Sherlock didn't care for Birthdays or Christmas really, and now it showed it was just because he'd never enjoyed it. Sherlock had never really been a child, and grown up very quickly.

"Well. Hopefully this one isn't the same as all those other things."

"That's what Mummy said every time." Sherlock muttered. On a normal person, a grown man calling their Mother 'Mummy' would be absurd, but it was fine on Sherlock, because of his upper-class demeanour.

He smiled at John and held his hands out eagerly, awaiting his surprise. John grinned and rolled his eyes, handing him a brown-paper wrapped parcel.

Sherlock grinned and ripped the paper open, looking in awe at the game.

"Ghost Squad." He read aloud. "Army shooting game." He concluded and smiled, but it faltered as he looked up at John. "Surely as an army man you would be against these sort of games? They encourage children to kill."

"You aren't a child. Well, not in body, occasionally in mind..." John sat opposite Sherlock on the armchair. "I do tend to be against them, but I think Mrs. Hudson is against you shooting her walls when you get bored. So this should be a welcome distraction."

Sherlock took of the box and looked at the model-gun and game-disc. A look of confusion flitted across his face.

"We don't have a console."

"I've got a Play Station 2. It works on that." John told him.

"Brilliant." Sherlock looked at him, a glee in his eyes. "Can we set it up now?"

"Sure." John leant behind his chair and pulled out the PS2, plugging it in and turning on the TV, inserting the disc. "You should probably do the training first-" he started but Sherlock stopped him.

"I can shoot real firearms, a pretend one will be easy."

The Game started and Sherlock had to choose a name. He paused before tapping in _John Watson_, smiling to himself.

"Why my name?"

"Because I've never been in the armed forces, you have." He selected a mode and sat up properly as it started, giving him orders and telling him to rescue civilians.

'_Roger That, Commander' _His character replied as the door was blasted open and the camera stepped in.

Sherlock crouched so he was at the height of the TV, and raised the control-machine gun with both hands and skilfully shot each of the enemy with a set jaw.

It didn't take long to complete, and Sherlock sat back on the couch with a smile on his face. He looked across at John, and the smile faltered again. "Did you ever have to bust out places like that?" He asked quietly. John was reminded of a child asking their parents where they used to work, or asking a police officer if they ever killed someone. There was the same sort of awe and respect.

"Yes." John nodded. "A few times. I managed though. We all did."

"Did you ever accidently shoot civilians?"

"Once. Never made the mistake again."

Sherlock nodded and stood up, walking past John and clapping a hand on his shoulder in a brotherly way, somewhat awkwardly. "Cheers for the game John. I bet Mrs. Hudson is thinking you as a God for saving her in wall refurbishing. I'll get you a cup of tea."

John smirked. "Try to use real sugar this time Sherlock."

Sherlock grimaced. "Yea. Sorry about that…" Last time the tea had tasted of what John would imagine rotting Flesh tasted like. Turned out he wasn't far of from his guess. "At least we know you'll never turn Cannibal…you know how disgusting it is now." He tried to reason to John.

"That's true." John watched Sherlocks' attempt at making tea, in case he got anything wrong or used anything that didn't really count as 'normal'. He was glad Sherlock liked the gift, it certainly seemed to have made his Christmas if that grin was anything to go by.

**A/N: Do you think that seemed to drag on a little bit? I'm not sure. Anyway, I was playing **_**Ghost Squad**_** with my friend Yesterday on her Nintendo Wii, so I had to adapt it in this story to PS2 to work, because John wouldn't buy a Wii, and Sherlock wouldn't be that energetic for most of the Wii games. It seems too funny. My friend and I go by the names of Sherlock and John – I'm obviously Sherlock – and she fixed her name on there as John Watson, so this story came out. **

**There will be a Part Two very shortly, where John gets a gift from Sherlock, and I'll chuck it out as soon as possible. So don't worry. Until then, please, **_**Please**_** just send me a quick review. It'll probably be on here in a few hours. **

**Whoa, I think this is the longest A/N I've ever done, it should have a Chapter of it's own! **

Doctorcoffeegirl 


	2. To John, from Sherlock

A/N: HI! I know I promised this Chapter yesterday, but I got stuck and had planned on writing it out before I posted the first Chapter. As you can see, it didn't happen. I hope it was worth the wait!

**Thanks to **_**x-Pick'n'Mix-x, Jason Layton, Ana **_**and **_**Pikeru's Angel **_**for your reviews! And to the reviewer who didn't sign in:**

**Ana: That's a great idea, I'll see if I can slot it into places, I definitely have a few ideas and could really see John doing that for Sherlock! **

**Now, lets see what Sherlock got John, shall we?**

Sherlock signed out of the game John had given him, still smiling. He'd never gotten nice gifts at Christmas, and he tried to forget his Birthday.

He had to give John something back. He took up the normal position on his couch, letting his feet dangle over one end and resting his head on the arm of the other. He closed his eyes slowly.

"Sherlock? John?" Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs. "I hope your both decent!" There was a slight laugh afterwards, and Sherlock hitched a smile but didn't move.

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson…" John came down the stairs. "Come to talk about the rent again?"

"Yes, and I brought you some biscuits. I know Sherlock hasn't been eating recently, have you?" She asked him.

Sherlock re-opened his eyes slowly and looked at her.

"Not enough sleep either, your eyes are darker than usual." She tutted.

Sherlock just grunted a noise that was almost a word and closed his eyes again.

He focused on the darkness, and drowning out the sounds of everyone and everything around him.

John smiled at Mrs. Hudson.

"At last. I've been trying to get him to rest for days." He grinned at the sleeping figure on the couch. He walked over and draped Sherlocks coat over him. They didn't have any covers downstairs.

"Come on, we'll talk downstairs." Mrs. Hudson and John left the room quietly.

Sherlocks' eyes snapped open and he turned his head to the side. 7pm. 4 hours sleep. Great.

"Four hours wasted." He muttered, sitting up and frowning as his coat slipped down.

He'd dreamt about that terrible night at the pool, with John being strapped up to those bombs.

He stared at his coat, thinking about how it had tiny little tears in it from the explosion at the pool. Moriarty had obviously intended it to kill them, but John had grabbed Sherlock and thrown them both into the pool and kept them both to the walls so no debris landed on them.

The result? They were both fine, if not in large amounts of shock, and their coats were soaked and destroyed. Sherlock himself had complained mainly of the coat, and slipped into a sulk for days at how Moriarty got away, _and_ his coat was ruined.

Sherlocks eyes lit up and he grinned. He knew exactly what to get John.

He threw on his coat and tied the scarf around his neck, mind still brimming with the new idea.

He bounded down the stairs. "Of out!"

"Oh, you're up. Brilliant." John stopped in front of him. "Can you get us something from the shops?"

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't think so. It was a long shot anyway. Try not to get yourself killed or kidnapped." John told him.

"I always do. How boring would your life be if that happened?" He smiled and slipped past John.

"Don't wait up." He called as he left.

After 3 hours of searching through shops for what he wanted, Sherlock finally found what he was looking for. He gave his payments and left, agreeing to pick it up the next day.

He made a short call to Mycroft, if not somewhat grudgingly to ask a favour. He didn't really want to, but it seemed a good price for John.

He ambled back to Baker Street, proud of himself and sufficiently happy.

When he was almost at the door, Sherlock realised there was no point really. He wasn't tired, and there were probably a few more bodies at Barts.

He detoured and just let himself walk there at a slow pace. No one else was there, so he could take his time.

It got to 8am, Sherlock was still leaning over the microscope and comparing substances. He'd hacked into Lestrades inbox and found a few more cases and the bodies in the morgue.

"You been here all night?" John asked.

"Yup. Stole a few cases. Lestrade has a little less work to do. Too easy really." Sherlock didn't look up, still looking for something in the samples he'd taken.

"Have you eaten?"

"What day is it?"

"We're into Friday now."

"…I'm good."

"Sherlock. I didn't see you eat yesterday either. Come on." John walked over and pulled Sherlock away from the Microscope. "God, you don't weigh a thing!"

"John! I have to finish!"

"No you don't. No one else uses this lab. You're fine." John handed his coat over. "Let's go. You need food."

"No I don't." Sherlock tried to pull away.

"Sherlock! You're still human. You have needs."

"The mind is what's important, the rest is transport." Sherlock said, but John ignored him and pushed him out the door.

As soon as they walked through the door to their flat, Sherlock fell onto the sofa and turned to watch with a smile on his face as John took of his coat and went to put it on the back of the door.

"Sherlock…"

"Yes?"

"Why is my coat on the door _and_ in my hand?"

"Merry Christmas, or Happy New Year. Depends on your outlook."

"You?"

"Yea. I had it made for you last night. This ones a bit tougher."

John slipped the Jacket on over his shirt. His old Jacket had been ruined in the explosions and on the cases either side of it, from falling over or clipping it against sharp edges.

The new one was exactly the same in looks. The Cord collar, the leather shoulder patch on the right side and on both elbows, four pockets, the six buttons and the rain jacket feel of it. It fitted perfectly, better than the old one.

"Hang on…you had it _made_ for me? And when did you get it here? You were out all night and I was downstairs."

"When you came to look for me, Mycroft snuck in and dropped it of for me."

"You willingly called him?" John asked, shocked.

"It was worth it, but never again." Sherlock shrugged. "There's a pocket on your left inside the coat specifically designed to hold your gun and the material between the outsides is a kind of super-light mesh that is bullet resistant."

"How did you get this done? Must have cost tonnes!"

"The man owed me a favour, so I got a good deal."

"Wow. Thanks!" John grinned.

"I had to get you something in return, and I feel really bad about dragging you into all this. You've almost died so many times, I wanted to get you something to protect you a little more."

"Whoa…you really do care!"

Sherlock just smiled shyly and shrugged.

"Don't go thinking I've forgotten why we're here Sherlock. What do you want to eat?"

Sherlocks smile dropped.

A/N: This one is double the length, oops. I know it didn't really seem to be going anywhere, but this one kind of wrote itself. Do you think it was a good enough gift? Let me know, and PLEASE review.

**I found online that Sherlocks' Birthday is the 6****th**** January, so expect a One-shot on that day, and one for Holmes in the Robert Downey Jnr 1800 Sherlock-world. **

**Until then…you could send a review…**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! :D WOOO!**

_**Doctorcoffeegirl**_


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